His Mother Was Right

He was told he was gifted at an age of ten, Gifted in every subject that he had. His mum said he would become a prodigy, He would be an intellectual nomad. Shifted to the next year group sitting on a throne, He expected never to be beat. Expecting people to know he was always right, Becoming a false cerebral athlete. But then he left school for uni. and a hurdle, The hurdle: study, falling fast, falling hard. The next ten years a turmoil of fails, No worship, only honesty, honesty that scarred. Now he’s a know it all bricklayer, Building taj mahal, in the back of people’s homes. Preaching his righteous proclamations, Proudly preaching to the fairies and gnomes.